Hazel is a freak...a rock star here. People shout, “dog, dog” and jump out of her path: kids, adults, even strong, tough men. She garners looks of fear, wariness, and surprise. A few nights ago I was walking Hazel during a power outage and was worried that I would trigger a heart attack in the unsuspecting pedestrians. In the stairwell of our building one young girl saw Hazel and ran shrieking into the arms of her father. Needless to say, we find this very bizarre. This reaction (paranoia)can apparently be traced back to the war when hungry dogs wandered the streets and made trouble. We heard stories today from a long time ex-pat about pack dogs that have attacked people in the middle of the city. Who knows? Maybe these anecdotes just serve to solidify a long held suspicion of dogs. And yet Hazel, being the sweet dog that we know her to be, is also playing the unwitting role of ambassador. A few days after Richard arrived, the three of us took a stroll in the Italian park. Two kids in particular were fascinated by Hazel. The little one took a good ten minutes of warming up before he would touch her. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. He would go away to play and be magnetically drawn back and Hazel patiently puts up with this.